Enoch

A dense, oblivious straight man x a paranoid, sensitive, pitiful sickly boy

*

When Bern was little, he didn't like going to church, until he met his new neighbors.

Dawn shimmered across the puddles in the alley. The face of the gaunt gentleman had long since blurred in his memory. All he remembered was the fragile air about him, so much like Enoch's. The man's hand trembled as he held little Enoch's, but unlike his father, Enoch wore a smile. His clear eyes stared straight at Bern, and his chubby, grubby hand reached out as if he wanted to take Bern's.

*

This is more or less my first work, and what first inspired me to write. I wrote it in high school, and looking back, it really feels like a lifetime ago.

A somewhat (actually, very) melancholy Western fantasy short story (Western, but not fantasy).

Theme: Saving a literary soul